


Christening the Challenger

by thecookiemomma



Category: NCIS
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-08-20
Updated: 2011-08-20
Packaged: 2017-10-22 20:46:23
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,136
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/242409
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thecookiemomma/pseuds/thecookiemomma
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Borne from a conversation on Twitter (@thecookiemomma there, too).  This is for OnUr6Boss.  Enjoy, hon!</p>
            </blockquote>





	Christening the Challenger

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Onur6boss](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Onur6boss/gifts).



It's a 1970 Dodge Challenger. 426 Hemi, R/T suspension package. Fuckin' canary yellow. He stands outside his boss' house nearly drooling at the sight. They've just gotten back from Stillwater, and the Boss drove the damn thing home. Of course, he drove like a bat outta hell, but he enjoyed it so much Tony couldn't begrudge the man the wild ride. He's gotten so inured to the man's driving after nearly eight years of working with him. He grins, and moves over to run his hand over the paint job, looking for tiny scratches.

 

“Tony! You molestin' my baby?” Jethro steps out of his house, comfortable in jeans and a hoodie. Tony's still in his suit, but doesn't mind a bit. Right now, he's focused on the sweet ride in front of him.

 

“Not molesting anything, Boss.” Tony continues to run his hands along the lower panel on the passenger side door. “She's so beautiful.”

 

“Sure looks like you're coppin' a feel, Tone.” His lover steps behind him and matches actions to words, copping his own feel. He reaches his hands around Tony's torso and deftly unbuckles his belt, sliding his hand inside the placket of his Armani pants.

“Well, it seems like the th-thing to do, Jet.” Tony's totally switched from subordinate to life-partner in a heartbeat. It's a skill he learned early on in life, switching from one role to another like a chameleon changing the colors on his back to blend right in. He's damn good at it too. “Feels so good, baby.”

 

“Like the heat of my hand, my body, pushin' ya up against the cold metal, Tony?” Gibbs growls in his ear, and with a Pavlovian reaction he's acquired more recently, Tony's dick hardens. Gibbs' hand fondles the tip gently, torturing him with slow, soft circles around the head. Tony can feel a shift as his boss looks both ways down the street, leaning forward over his shoulder to check for people in their yards, then leans in to his ear again. “Thinkin' of fuckin' you right here, Tony.”

 

The combination of Jethro's words, his hard dick against Tony's ass, the fingers massaging his glans and the timbre of his voice in his ear make him shudder with pleasure and harden until he's as erect as he's ever been. He shakes his ass just a little, doing a little torture of his own, and nods once. “I'd like that. Have to be fast.” He looks down at his watch. “Mr. Jatzorni will be coming home in about twenty. Think you can get us off that quickly?” He turns a little, offering his ear for Jethro to nip, which he does. “Hmm, old man?”

 

Of course, the jibe elicits a growl from Jethro, and his lover is grabbing the lube from his pocket, yanking Tony's pants down and covering his body with his own before snarling in his ear, “Who you callin' old? I'll get us off with ten minutes to spare.” He slicks up a finger and slides it in, pressing Tony flush against the car. The cold of the metal _does_ feel good in contrast to the heat of the body behind him, and he groans, palming the top of the car with his sweaty hands. 

 

“Don't make a mess of my baby, Tone. Not yet.” Jethro chuckles and sticks another finger into Tony, slicking and stretching him efficiently. 

 

“Not makin' a mess of anything, Jet. Just get...” Tony scowls at his lover, panting. “Fill me, please?” He lets his tone turn a little plaintive, knowing how that affects the other man. Jethro unzips his jeans, pulls them down just enough to free his hard dick, and enters his slick lover. 

 

“Oh, I'll fill you alright.” Jethro slams into him, rubbing his bare crotch against the smooth, cold, yellow car. “Fill you so fast and so full you'll be droolin' it on the hood, baby.” Tony groans happily, pushing back a little against the thrusts. He shifts a little, changing his stance just enough so that Jethro can hit his prostate on every stroke. 

 

Jethro sets up an intense rhythm, sliding a slick-covered hand around front to jerk sharply on Tony's dick. It takes an embarrassingly short amount of time before Tony is lost in the pleasure, seeing stars behind his eyes. “You want me to paint this thing, Jet, or you want it on the ground? Your choice.” 

 

Jethro groans deeply, the words causing him to jerk even more quickly for a moment. “Paint it baby.” Jethro gasps out between thrusts. Tony groans and within two strokes, does exactly that. “Christen it for me, Tone.” 

 

“Oh, yeah.” Tony's biting on his lip to keep the curses and epithets from just spilling from his mouth. Normally, when he's fucked, his words spill out like a waterfall, caressing and claiming and just generally making a complete ass of himself. This time, though, he's quiet, knowing any extra attention could draw more attention to themselves than they want right now. It isn't long, only a moment or two more, and Jethro stills, filling him with his semen, groaning his own release. Jet's always been quiet in bed, at least when he's pitching. When he's catching, it's an entirely different story. Tonight, though, they're quiet as can be. Jethro pulls out, wiping his dick and Tony's ass with a handkerchief. 

 

He leans in, nibbling at Tony's ear again, pulling his pants up to cover his bare ass, and whispering sweet nothings in Tony's ear. “Love ya, Tone. Make me feel so good, babe.” Jethro zips up his jeans, then reaches around to clean up Tony's spunk from his dick. He refastens Tony's pants, leaving the belt undone. They're only steps away from the house, after all. “C'mon. Got the steaks out and the grill should be just about right.” Tony turns around, moving to a different part of the car to avoid smearing the stuff on his pants, and grabs Jethro, pulling him in for a sweet, sated kiss. 

 

“Steaks?” He whispers in his lover's ear. “My favorite.” Jethro chuckles at his teasing tone, and then pulls him off the car to walk together into the house. He smacks Tony's ass with a swift, sharp swat. Tony yelps and laughs, draping his arm over his man's shoulders, pulling Jethro's arm around his waist. “C'mon Boss, let's go get something to eat.” 

 

The growl of Tony's stomach can be heard above their soft chuckles. 

 

* * * 

 

In the morning, Jethro steps out of the house a few minutes early to gaze at the spot on the door of his car. It's dried now, of course, and he grins happily as he moves around to the other side, running his hand across the hood before barking, “DiNozzo! Get yer ass out here! We're gonna be late!” 

 

 


End file.
